JOHN watched the hologram screen in front of him anxiously as the red icon that represented Thunderbird 3 made its way at great speed out into space. "Thunderbird 3 from Thunderbird 5. Any sign of the target yet?"

"Negative, Thunderbird 5," answered Alan. "How far away from it am I?"

"It should be just off your port side," John said. "You should have a visual any moment now."

Alan looked over to the left and his eyes fixed on the incoming problem that he'd been scrambled to deal with. "There! I see it!" he said.

Off the left side of Thunderbird 3 and approaching rapidly was a meteorite. It was only slightly larger than Thunderbird 3 and had enough weight in its mass to smash a spaceship to smithereens if contact was made.

"That meteorite is on a collision course for Earth, Thunderbird 3," John reported over the hologram-projector. "You need to destroy it before it gets too close."

"We're already thousands of miles away from Earth, John," Alan replied. "If it becomes several smaller meteorites it should be harmless."

"That's what we want, Alan," said John. "Better get ready to blast it."

"F-A-B!" said Alan. he moved Thunderbird 3 a little to the right and flew his ship around the side of the meteorite to come round behind it. It was always best to destroy a moving object from behind then the momentum of flying debris shouldn't be as dangerous. "In position," Alan said. "Deploying grasping arms." The three arms of Thunderbird 3 extended and Alan brought Thunderbird 3 in closer to the meteorite ready to grab onto it so he could burrow into it and plant a demolition charge inside. It was the same process that he and Virgil had used to destroy the comet that Langstrom Fishcler had once tried to bring into Earth's orbit; only this meteorite was a lot smaller.

In the lounge of the Tracy Island villa, Brains and Jeff watched the events unfolding on a hologram screen.

"Can he do it, Brains?" asked Jeff anxiously.

"The m-meteorite is still a long way from Earth, Mr Tracy," Brains said. "Alan has more than enough t-time to plant the charge and get clear."

Jeff turned his attention back to the screen. "Let's cross our fingers," he said. "John, where would the meteorite hit if it did enter Earth's atmosphere?"

"It likely would break apart during the re-entry," John said. "And then we'd have multiple potential impact sights in the Indian Ocean and South Africa."

"We can't let that happen," said Jeff. He narrowed his eyes as he waited for news. "Come on, Alan."

Alan brought Thunderbird 3 closer and closer to the meteorite. "Almost there," he reported.

Suddenly there was a flash of white light as something exploded on the right side of the meteorite. Alan had to cover his eyes briefly to protect them. "WOAH!" he exclaimed. After a few moments the light had gone and he was able to look again. He blinked in surprise because the meteorite was no longer filling his windshield. Instead he was looking directly at the Earth. "Huh?" he said in confusion. "Where did it go?"

John came over the projector. "Thunderbird 3, are you okay?" he asked. "What did you do?"

"I didn't do anything, Thunderbird 5," Alan replied. "There was some kind of explosion and then it just disappeared."

"Turn to port," John said shortly.

Alan did so and turned Thunderbird 3 as John had instructed. He blinked again when the meteorite reappeared in his view - only now it was going in a totally different direction. It was spinning slightly and there was a small chunk of it now missing where the explosion had taken place. "What the blazes?" asked Alan.

"It's changed direction somehow," said John. "Although I have absolutely no idea how."

"It's space rock," Brains piped in. "They can't just alter their t-trajectories. Someone must have p-put an explosive charge on it!"

"But it's no longer heading towards Earth?" Alan observed. "Isn't that a good thing?"

"Yes, the Earth is no longer in danger," said John.

"Aw, man!" said Alan, slightly disappointed. "I didn't get to sink my teeth into it."

"You s-still are, Thunderbird 3," said Brains. "Have you seen where it's headed for now?"

Alan looked ahead and froze as he saw a much larger ball of grey rock beyond the position of the meteorite. "Ah, nuts!" he realised. "It's heading for the Moon!"

"And worse," said John. "I've mapped out the impact area. If you don't do something about it, it might crash straight into Base Endeavour!"

5!

4!

3!

2!

1!

"Thunderbirds Are Go!"

"MOONQUAKE"

COMMANDER Gorski was at the desk in his office at Base Endeavour when Miss Li, his secretary, called in on the intercom. "Yes, what is it?" he asked in his unfriendly gruff voice.

"Commander, I've got International Rescue on the line," said Miss Li. "They say it's urgent."

Gorski rolled his eyes. "Of course it would be urgent otherwise they wouldn't be calling," he snapped. "What do they want?"

"They didn't say, sir," replied Miss Li. "Only that they need to talk to you immediately."

Gorski sighed. "Fine. Put them through," he said.

Miss Li's hologram was replaced by John's. "Commander Gorski, this is Thunderbird 5."

Gorski grunted. "Another of Jeff Tracy's minions, no doubt?" he asked.

John ignored the remark and continued. "Commander, you need to put your base on Red Alert. There is a meteorite heading for the Moon and I predict that it's going to hit in the vicinity of Base Endeavour."

Gorski glared at John. "Listen, boy. I am a busy man, and I don't have time to be bothered by someone saying that there's a meteorite heading towards my base. If there was any danger my control team would alert me and deal with it!"

John frowned. "Sir, I am not making this up!" he said, agitated. "Check your base's early-warning scanners and see for yourself."

Gorski got aggressive. "Alright, boy, that's enough!" he snapped. "I do NOT TAKE ORDERS FROM YOU OR ANYONE OUTSIDE OF THE SPACE AGENCY!" He scoffed loudly. "Honestly. You sons of Jeff Tracy all think you're better than everyone else, don't you!" He turned his back on John to pour himself a cup of coffee.

"Would you care to say that to my face, Commander?"

Gorski froze as he recognised the voice. Slowly, he turned back towards the desk to see that John's hologram had been joined by a rather angry-looking Jeff. "M-Mr T-Tracy?" he stammered.

"You know the last time we visited, my son Alan told me you were rude to him, Commander," Jeff said whilst fixing the commander with a hard stare. "I wasn't sure whether to take that seriously or not. But I heard everything that you've just to John and I must say I am appalled!"

Gorski went red in the face as he tried to come up with an explanation. "I, er, well, er-"

"Check your scanners, Commander," Jeff continued. "Then see if my son is wasting your time or not."

Gorski did so without a word. He touched a button on his desk. "Lieutenant Harrington. Do a sweep of the area above us. Is there anything heading our way?" There was a slight shakiness in his voice and he appeared to be sweating a little , which John, Brains and Jeff all took note of.

"You don't suppose that he's n-not had his team looking out for such dangers?" Brains whispered to Jeff.

A few seconds later, an alarm began to sound which they heard over the communications devices followed by a woman's frantic voice. "Commander! There's a meteorite heading for our area!"

"How far?" asked Gorski.

"Two thousand miles and closing fast!" said Lieutenant Harrington.

"Sound Red Alert!" barked Gorski. "Ready the Space-Cannon!"

"Yes, sir!"

Alan, who was still pursuing the meteorite in Thunderbird 3, had been listening in to the transmissions. "Did he say a Space-Cannon?" he asked.

"Yes, he did," said John. "You'd better get out of there, Thunderbird 3. The cannon will make short work of that meteorite. And you if you don't clear the area!"

Alan didn't need telling twice. He retracted the grasping arms back into Thunderbird 3 before turning the ship hard round to the right and putting full power on the thrusters.

On the roof of the military station of Base Endeavour, the dome-shaped roof opened up to reveal a long and deadly-looking space blaster that could fire energy pulses at large objects and destroy them with a single shot.

Gorski left his office and entered the main control room. "Talk to me, Harrington!"

"Cannon is ready, Commander," Lieutenant Harrington said. "Just waiting for the International Rescue ship to clear the area before we fire."

Gorski looked at the radar screen that showed the positions of both the meteorite and Thunderbird 3. "We don't have time to wait," he said. "Take it out."

Everyone in the control room turned and stared at him in alarm.

"But, sir," objected Harrington. "The Thunderbird?"

Gorski looked her hard in the eyes. "I gave you a direct order, Lieutenant," he said. "FIRE!"

Harrington looked down at the firing controls before moving a reluctant and trembling hand slowly towards the firing button.

Gorski lost patience. "Oh, for goodness sake!" he snapped and punched the button before Harrington could reach it.

The cannon fired a massive pulse of green energy from its turret which hit the meteorite and it blew up in a massive blast. Tiny chunks were sent in all directions, including towards the escaping Thunderbird 3 which got caught in the shockwave.

"WOOOOOOOOOOOOAAAAAHH!" Alan cried as his ship began spiralling out of control. "WHAT IS HAPPENING?!" He then heard a number of clunks and clanks as small chunks of the meteorite slammed into the hull of Thunderbird 3. Alarms began wailing in the cockpit as numerous warning lights began to flash on the control console. "Argh!" groaned Alan. "I've been hit!"

"Brains, what's the damage?" Jeff asked.

The young scientist was already running through some hologram schematics of Thunderbird 3 to try and locate any problems. It wasn't long before he found it. "Engine T-Two hit. Minor damage," he said. Then he let out a gasp. "Thunderbird 3, get back to Earth now! One of your oxygen tanks has been p-punctured!"

Alan looked at the oxygen level gauges. One of them was draining rapidly. "Damn it!" he cursed as he finally managed to regain control of Thunderbird 3 and set it on a course back towards Earth. "On my way, Brains!"

"Can he make it through re-entry, Brains?" John asked.

"Yes, the damage is m-minor," said Brains. "The heat shield isn't damaged too much. Thunderbird 3 is able to m-make it back to Tracy Island."

Jeff's fists were clenched tightly. "Gorski…" he said with anger in his eyes. "I'll have his job for this!"

In the control room at Endeavor, things were awkwardly silent following the destruction of the meteorite.

"Status?" Gorski asked.

Harrington checked the screen. "The meteorite is destroyed, sir," she said. "And the Thunderbird has managed to get clear."

"Hmph!" Gorski grunted before turning away and walking into his office. "Nobody disturb me unless it is urgent!" he barked and closed the doors without making eye contact with anybody.

Everyone stayed silent as they went back to their work, turning their focus away from the arrogant commander. Nobody continued to look at the doors of Gorski's office - except for one young woman who was concealing absolute fury inside her body. Her name was Dr Sophie Telford.

Jeff and Alan watched on as Brains inspected the damage to Thunderbird 3. "Sorry, Brains," Alan apologised. "I thought I was going fast enough to get clear in time."

"You w-were going fast enough, Alan," Brains called down from the elevating platform he was on. "You could not have known that Commander G-Gorski would have had the space-cannon fired whilst you were still close by."

"I've spoken to Commissioner Simmonds at NASA," said Jeff. "I told him everything and had John send him the recordings of the conversations. I am sure he will want to talk to Gorski and ask him to explain his actions."

"What'll happen to him?" asked Alan.

"Hopefully he'll be removed from his position and either demoted or dismissed," said Jeff. "I for one am not comfortable with him being in command of that base and there's a part of me that fears for the safety of the people who work there."

"Yeah…me too," agreed Alan. He was thinking about Dr Telford. Ever since the time he and Jeff had gone to visit Endeavour, he and Sophie had exchanged the odd message via text which had gone quiet for a bit during Jeff's ordeal with The Cabal trying to assassinate him and then their vacation in Canada, but now they'd been back on Tracy Island for over a week now, things were starting to get back to normal. Jeff felt a lot better following his vacation, as did Alan, whose minor flesh wound had healed after getting shot at by escaped criminal Leo Snart.

Jeff and Alan returned to the villa leaving Brains to work on Thunderbird 3. It was getting dark outside and the island was very quiet. Grandma was tidying up in the kitchen. Kayo was up in her room still recovering from her injuries following the encounter with The Cabal. Scott and Virgil were out on a mission in Pakistan which left only Jeff, Alan and Gordon to occupy the lounge.

Father and youngest son found Gordon sitting at Jeff's desk and noticed immediately that he looked unhappy. "Something on your mind, son?" Jeff asked.

Gordon had been lost in his thoughts and hadn't noticed them come in. "What? Oh, Dad!" he said as he vacated Jeff's seat for him. "Sorry, I was in a world of my own."

Alan saw the chance for a tease. "No more than usual then," he said as he sat himself down on one of the sofas.

Gordon scowled but didn't respond to him. He turned to Jeff instead. "I guess it's just me, Dad," he said. "Penelope's going on a scenic cruise and I wish I was going with her."

"A scenic cruise, you say?" said Jeff. "Caribbean?"

"Not quite," said Gordon. "Scottish Isles."

"Wow. very exotic," remarked Alan which prompted Gordon to throw an eraser from Jeff's desk at him. "Ow!"

"Oi, that's enough!" Jeff ordered. "Alan, stop it."

Alan pouted and went back to playing his portable video game player. "Yeah, whatever," he muttered. "Time for some more Cavern Quest."

Jeff looked at a holographic photograph of an old-fashioned steam-ship that Gordon had left on the desk. "Is that what she's sailing on?" he asked.

Gordon nodded. "Yes, it is."

Jeff was intrigued. "The S.S. Keewatin?" he said. "That's a really ancient vessel. Although I thought it was on the Great Lakes?"

"The original is," said Gordon. "It's a museum according to Penelope. However an old acquaintance of Lord Creighton-Ward has constructed a full-size fully-working and seaworthy replica of the vessel and is going to use it to take people on scenic cruises around Britain."

Jeff admired the elegant-looking ship with its pristine white hull and tall yellow and black funnel that looked a bit oversized for the vessel itself. "Kind of reminds me of how the Titanic used to look," he said.

"Yes, it's from that era," Gordon said. "I don't think Penelope's overly thrilled about the idea of going on it though."

Jeff was surprised. "Why ever not?" he asked. "I would have thought a cruise around the beautiful coastline would be right up her street?"

"It's not the cruise itself that she's unhappy with," said Gordon. "It's the fact that she and everybody else aboard have to dress up in Edwardian clothing and act out in the same way as people would have done in the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries. Apparently the people behind the ship's existence believe that the old class system of people being above or below each other is the way things should have stayed."

Alan, who had been listening, scoffed loudly. "That's ridiculous!" he remarked. "That way of living and treating people hasn't existed for over a century. Why should anyone still believe that the old ways were better?"

"And who are we to judge them, Alan?" asked Jeff. "However, I have to admit that I don't understand that either. People who think they're above others can make enemies very quickly." He looked back at the photo of the ship. "For the Creighton-Wards sakes I hope they have a peaceful voyage."

Alan then felt a buzz in his pocket. He pulled out his phone and read the message on it. It was from Sophie.

"Hey Alan.

Please tell me you're okay? I was in the Control Room when Commander Gorski fired the laser cannon. OMG, he is such an idiot. I really hope when this place is finished that he is removed from command and replaced with someone more capable. He could have hit your ship if the cannon hadn't been locked onto the meteorite! Please let me know that you're okay?

Sophie x"

Alan was surprised. He hadn't expected to see the 'x' at the end of the message, let alone have a member of the base's personnel talk badly behind Gorski's back. He looked across to make sure neither Jeff or Gordon were looking before sending a reply.

"Hi Sophie

Yes, I am fine. Thunderbird 3 suffered minor damage from fragments of the meteorite after it was destroyed but Brains will have her fixed up by tonight so no big deal. Yeah, I think Gorski is a total moron. Not only did he talk down to me that first time we met but he was also rude to John when he tried to warn him about the meteorite coming at the base! Was it correct that none of the base's scanning equipment was in operation before he ordered it? If so, then someone ought to be told about it. In fact, I think Dad's already going to put in a complaint about Gorski because he overheard him being rude to John.

Hope you are well

Alan"

He wasn't confident at sending an 'x' to Sophie yet.

"Who are you texting, kiddo?"

Alan jumped to see Grandma had appeared from the kitchen. "Er, nobody!" he lied.

Gordon rolled his eyes. "I bet you a dollar it's that doctor from the Moonbase that he likes," he said.

Alan groaned. "Fine! Yes, it's her. She just asked if I was okay after she saw Gorski fire the cannon at the meteorite. Nothing to worry about, okay?"

But Jeff was quick to note something. "Wait a minute," he said. "Alan, what was that she said to you about Gorski?"

Alan checked the message again. "She said that Gorski was the one who fired the cannon."

Jeff, Gordon and Grandma exchanged shocked looks.

"Can you ask her to call you?" Jeff asked. "This is something that needs discussing."

Alan wasn't comfortable with the idea. "Errr, okay," he said with uncertainty as he typed another message to Sophie.

"Hey

Sorry to have to ask this of you, but my Dad wants to talk to you about Gorski. Are you able to give us a private call?

Alan"

They waited a few moments before the phone buzzed with a response.

"Sure. I am alone in my quarters so I can do that."

A beeping sound then came through the room before Sophie's hologram appeared from the projector in the table. "Hello, there?" she said.

"Dr Telford, hello," said Jeff. "Sorry to butt into yours and Alan's private conversation but I would like to ask you about Commander Gorski.

"That's okay, sir," Sophie replied. "I know I shouldn't speak ill of my senior commander but-"

"Gorski is a menace to you all as far as I can tell," Jeff cut her off. "He's been rude to my sons and put the lives of everyone on that base in mortal danger by not having your people monitoring for any space hazards. I've already put in a formal complaint against him to Commissioner Simmonds at NASA, but this needs to be added to it."

Gordon poked Alan's shoulder. "Hey, Al. you never told us she was an Aussie," he said with a mischievous grin. He turned to Sophie's hologram. "G'day, Doc," he said, putting on a rather bad Australian accent. "I'm Gordon. Alan's superior brother."

Alan tried to hit his brother's leg. "Shut UP!" he hissed.

Jeff was about to shout at Gordon when he had a sudden idea. "One sec, Doctor," he said to Sophie. "I say, Mother. Do you need help with the washing-up?"

Grandma smiled as she quickly caught on to her son's idea. "I most certainly do," she said.

"Good," said Jeff and turned to Gordon. "Off you go, Gordon."

Gordon blinked. "Say what?"

"You've just volunteered to help me in the kitchen, young man," said Grandma as she grabbed Gordon by the arm and began dragging him towards the kitchen. "Come along."

"Wait, what?!" Gordon spluttered in protest. "I never…Awwwwwwwwwwh DAD!" he finished with a big pout.

Alan couldn't help but chuckle. Even Sophie was giggling.

"My apologies, Doctor," Jeff said, turning back to her. "My sons can be trying at times."

"That's okay, Mr Tracy," Sophie replied. "I have two sisters and a brother of my own back at home in Canberra so I totally get how annoying siblings can be."

"Gordon's the worst, trust me," said Alan.

"OI!" Gordon's voice rang out from downstairs.

Jeff cleared his throat. "So yes, Doctor. Can you tell us in full detail what you saw and heard Gorski do earlier today, please?"

The sounds of a vintage brass band filled the air on a quayside on the River Clyde near the city of Glasgow in Scotland. Several old vintage cars, many that had been hired for the occasion were queuing up to pass through a set of gates to take their occupants to where the replica S.S. Keewatin was moored, waiting for them.

One car that wasn't old-fashioned was FAB1 which stood out like a sore thumb amongst the old vehicles. In the back seats of the car were Penelope, her father Lord Patrick and mother Lady Patricia. All three of them were dressed in immaculate Edwardian outfits. Even Parker, who was driving, was dressed formally although he hated it. Seeing the mass of people and the queue of cars passing through the gates, Parker decided to pull FAB1 into a layby on the opposite side of the road. "Begging your pardon, Your Lordship," he said. "But I don't think that we'll be h'allowed to enter with FAB1. I think we'd better take the cases h'in from 'ere."

"That's quite alright, Parker," said Patrick. "You're right, of course. I know the Roystones probably will kick up a fuss if they see FAB1 anywhere near their ship."

"It's pathetic," Penelope remarked. "I really can't understand why they insist on everybody having to dress up like this."

"Now, now, Penelope," scolded Patricia. "These clothes may be tiresome but they'll help relieve the experience of what it was like back in the day. I admit, I don't care much for Lionel and Deborah's beliefs about the class system but we have to hold our tongues on that one."

Leaving FAB1 outside the dock gates, Parker helped the Creighton-Wards take their belongings along the roadway amongst several other guests towards where the ship was docked. Soon it came into view and even Penelope had to admit that the ship itself was quite a spectacle. She looked every bit as impressive as she'd done in the picture she'd sent Gordon the night before.

The quayside was busy. Porters and stewards shuffled backwards and forwards transporting luggage from trolleys onto the ship where they would be taken to their owners' cabins. The guests walked up the two gangways after being checked in and security checked and then more stewards would lead them to their cabins.

Parker helped the Creighton-Wards take their own luggage aboard, politely refusing the offers of help from the stewards. Unlike most aristocratic families, they didn't like to rely on others too much for help if they could avoid it. They did however accept the help of the steward who would lead them to their cabin.

The cabin was one of the best on the ship - a luxury suite. It had three beds. A king-size double for Patrick and Patricia, and a single for Penelope. The walls and furniture were decorative and spotless. Penelope deep down knew that staying and experiencing the ship would probably be an enjoyable one and she always loved seeing Scotland, but she only wished the whole dressing up could have been forgotten about - except maybe at dinner.

"My apologies," the steward said, "but I thought there were only three of you?" He was referring to Parker who was bringing the last of the bags into the cabin.

"Oh, I h'am not staying, youngster," Parker answered. "I am simply 'ere to h'ensure that m'lord and m'ladies are comfortable before I return to shore."

"Very well," said the steward. He turned to the Creighton-Wards. "Sir, madams. I was asked to inform you that Lord and Lady Roystone requested your presence once you were aboard and settled."

"Of course," said Patrick. "Where might we find them?"

"In the observation lounge, m'lord," said the steward. "One deck up."

"Thank you," said Patrick.

The steward nodded and left.

Parker put the last bag in place and turned to the others. "Will that be all, m'lord?" he asked.

"Yes, Parker," said Patrick. "I think that's all. Thank you as always."

Parker smiled. "Pleasure as h'always, sir." He tipped his hat to them. "H'Enjoy the trip," he said as he headed out of the cabin door.

"We'll try, Parker," Penelope muttered to herself.

The replica Keewatin was the brainchild of one Lord Lionel Roystone - a man with a passion for old ships and especially the original S.S. Keewatin. He had tried to purchase it with the intention of bringing it to England for a full restoration to working order, but the Canadian authorities refused due to the ship being of such historical significance to them. So instead he managed to persuade some old partners to get him the blueprints of the vessel and got permission to build a working replica of it. It wasn't a cheap undertaking having cost him up to six-million pounds just to get it built. Then he'd had a huge headache of trying to get it approved for actual sailing on the ocean because contrary to his family's beliefs that the old ways were better, the Maritime Authorities wouldn't certify the ship as capable of going to sea unless it had all the modern safety requirements such as enough lifeboats, a VTS tracking system, radar and a radio. Despite Lionel's best efforts, he eventually had no choice but to give in and allow the new-fangled nonsense as he called it to be added to his beloved ship. However, externally the changes were minimal with the builders doing what they could to try and disguise all of the modern safety devices under the old-fashioned look of the vessel.

Lionel was naturally going to be on the replica Keewatin's maiden voyage, of which this cruise around Scotland was going to be, and he wouldn't be alone. His wife Deborah had come aboard as had their daughter Beth. Deborah was more a believer of the old class system and hierarchy than her husband was and had a bit of a reputation for pointing out things that should be done the way she wanted and could ridicule anybody who did anything different. Because of this, Beth was often ashamed to even be in her mother's presence, but she went along with them regardless.

Deborah and Beth walked into the main observation lounge where numerous other high-profile guests were already enjoying the all-inclusive drinks that came with the voyage. They'd barely been on the ship for five minutes before Deborah began lecturing her daughter on how she needed to be whilst on the ship. "Please try to smile, Beth," she said. "Do it for your father if not for me." She began to walk towards the lounge bar where Lionel was already entertaining guests.

"I'm sorry that I'm such a disappointment to you," Beth answered as she followed.

"Honestly," said Deborah. "You've been acting strangely all day."

Beth just rolled her eyes and said nothing.

Patrick, Patricia and Penelope arrived shortly afterwards.

"Pat, my dear fellow!" exclaimed Lionel when he saw them. His short, stout body was dwarfed by the tallness of Patrick. "Come in, come in!"

Patrick shook Lionel's hand warmly. "Lionel, you old devil. It's been so long," he said before going to greet Deborah and Beth.

Pleasantries were soon made between the respective Lords, Ladies and daughters before a fourth man joined them. "Pat, Pat and Penelope, may I introduce you to Owen Matthews, my Chief Financial Officer…and Beth's fiancé."

"How do you do?" said Patrick.

"Great honour to meet you, sir," replied Owen.

Beth and Penelope exchanged smiles. They had been in a college class together and hadn't seen each other for years.

Once the pleasantries had been made, Lionel asked Patrick for a quiet word. There had been something that had been bothering him that he hadn't wished anyone, especially Deborah or even Beth to know about, and Patrick was one of his closest friends so he felt that he could confide in him. "It's probably nothing," he began as he fumbled inside his inside coat pocket. "I received this this morning amongst the hundreds of 'good luck' messages sent to the ship." He pulled out what appeared to be an old postcard with a famous painting on the front.

Patrick took it and examined it closely. "Death & The Maiden?" he remarked before turning it over to look at the back. It was blank. "Could this be some kind of threat?"

"Possibly," said Lionel. "This is the maiden voyage after all."

"Do you think you should still sail?" asked Patrick.

"We have to," said Lionel. "There are many people on board who have paid to see the sights of bonnie Scotland."

Patrick looked back at the postcard. "Why would someone send you this?"

"I don't know," replied Lionel.

"Someone with a grudge, perhaps?"

Lionel puffed out his chest. "I am a successful man, you know that, Pat," he said. "I have way more enemies than friends." He paused. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have brought this up."

"No, no, it's fine, Lionel, honestly," said Patrick. "I can see that it's been bothering you and you needed to get it off your chest."

Lionel nodded. "And I have to say I feel somewhat better after that," he said. "A drink?"

Patrick smiled. "Of course," he said.

13:00 hours was the sailing time for the Keewatin. Everyone was aboard and accounted for by 12:30pm and with five minutes to go, the gangways were removed. The boilers were fully stoked and up to pressure. All the open spaces on the decks were lined with passengers and certain members of crew as the moorings slipped and the ship was eased away from the dock by two small Tugs. three long blasts were given on the whistle and a crowd of spectators including those who'd come to see the passengers off waved and cheered as the Keewatin began the first part of its journey, to sail through the industrial outskirts of Glasgow past Clydebank where many famous ships including the ocean liners Lusitania, Queen Mary and QE2 as well as the Royal Yacht Britannia had been constructed and out towards the estuary around Greenock before heading South towards Ailsa Craig before beginning the island-viewing trip through the Hebrides towards their first port of call at Tobermory.

Once the ship was away from the dock and heading off down the river, Parker left the spectators to it and returned to FAB1. "H'At last!" he remarked as he removed the top hat and bow-tie. "Now I can get rid of this rubbish!"

Commander Gorski went to the window in his office and peered out across the nearly completed Base Endeavour. It had taken a good long time to construct but completion would soon be done. Despite all the hard work that everyone had put in, Gorski in his eyes felt that it was all his doing, despite having only been given command of the base and not actually had any input with the design or even the construction of it. "A marvellous effort if I do say so myself," he remarked. "You and me, Endeavour. We're going to be here for a very long time." Just then movement outside caught his eye. A long, white and grey transport and supply ship known as The Eagle appeared from the direction of Earth and made its way down towards the base's Space-Port. "Hmph!" he snorted. "No doubt more misfits have been sent to assist with the final details to this place."

Gorski quite often would never go and meet the new arrivals off the Eagle which was against usual procedure. All he was interested in was seeing that the Moonbase was completed. To him, nothing else mattered. It hadn't been more than ten minutes following the Eagle's arrival when the desk intercom buzzer sounded.

"Yes, what is it now?" Gorski asked, irritated.

"Someone to see you, sir," answered Miss Li.

"Who?" asked Gorski.

But instead of answering, Miss Li instead opened the doors. Gorski looked up and stared in surprise at the sight of the white-haired man walking in carrying a briefcase in his right hand. Gorski jumped to his feet. "Colonel Straker?!"

"Commander Gorski," said Ed Straker. "It's been a long time."

"It certainly has," replied Gorski. "What the devil brings you out here?"

"I have a new assignment and a new position at this base," said Straker as he opened up the suitcase. "Covering for you."

Groski blinked. "Excuse me?"

Straker took out what looked like a portable hologram communicator. "I am going to be covering for you whilst we carry out an investigation," he said.

"Investigation?" repeated Gorski. "Into what?"

"Into your handling of this base," said Straker. "Not to mention your attitude."

Gorski went red in the face. "How dare you suggest such a thing!"

"And there's a fine example right there," remarked Straker. He pressed on the communicator. "Commissioner Simmons, this is Colonel Straker."

A hologram image of the Space Commissioner appeared from the projector. "Ah, Colonel. I trust you had a pleasant flight?"

"Very comfortable, sir," said Straker. "Those Eagles are very comfortable. If only commercial flights were the same."

Simmons chuckled.

"However," Straker continued. "I was less than impressed when I arrived at Endeavour to find there was no base commander to greet me off of it." He gave Gorski a look.

Simmons' hologram turned towards Gorski. "Is that so?" he said. "Do you have an explanation for that, Commander Gorski?"

Gorski was beginning to sweat and the colour had drained from his face. "I-I-I wasn't informed that Colonel Straker was coming…sir!"

"Was my name not on the Eagle's manifest sheet?" asked Straker.

Gorski was still for a moment before slowly going to his computer and looking at the emails. There were thirty-nine unread emails, the most recent of which had been sent three hours earlier with a full list of cargo and passengers that the incoming supply Eagle had been carrying. It listed the names of all the new arrivals…and at the top of the list was Straker's name. Gorski went very pale. "Oh…" he said sheepishly.

"Oh indeed, Commander," said Simmons with a disapproving tone in his voice. "That Eagle will be leaving for the return flight to Earth in just over two hours. I expect you to be on it. We have some….urgent matters to discuss." He turned back to Straker. "Good luck with your temporary posting, Colonel."

"Thank you, sir," said Straker as Simmons signed off. He then turned to Gorski. "If I were you, I would get packing," he said. "You won't want to miss that Eagle." He then walked away to sort out his briefcase whilst Gorski quivered unhappily. It seemed that his time on the Moon had come to an abrupt end.

Straker and Lieutenant Harrington stood at the window in the office as the Eagle lifted off from the base's pad to begin its trip back to Earth.

"Good riddance," Harrington remarked. "He won't be missed."

"Lieutenant, let me make one thing clear," said Straker. "I am not replacing Commander Gorski, but I am going to be here until at least a permanent replacement for him is found."

"You mean he's gone for good?" asked Harrington with hope in her voice.

"I cannot answer that," Straker replied. "There's a chance he may have explanations for his actions, but between you and me I very much doubt that he will be back."

Harrington grinned broadly. "God, I hope that's true," she said.

Straker gave a chuckle, before his attention was suddenly grabbed by a rattling noise coming from the desk. He looked and noticed the pot of pens was shaking before they suddenly fell over. At the same time, he felt a strange vibration coming from under his feet. "Is this place haunted, Lieutenant?"

"Beg your pardon, sir?"

Straker was about to respond when an urgent shout was heard out in the control room. They hurried out to see what the matter was.

The call had come from another controller, Lieutenant Gabrielle Ellis who had been monitoring a radar satellite covering their side of the Moon. "Colonel, something very strange has happened," she said. She pointed to the screen in front of her. "We detected some kind of anomaly at this location. It came up for about twenty seconds and then stopped."

"Did anyone feel those weird vibrations a moment ago?" Straker asked.

The entire room mumbled in acknowledgement.

"It's most odd, sir," Ellis continued. "I've never felt or seen anything like it before."

"I have," said a voice from the far side of the control room. It belonged to Lieutenant Nina Barry. "I used to feel them all the time when growing up in LA. That was an earthquake tremor."